Awake from the nightmare
by ElectroNonce
Summary: What happens after the three years Sherlock left John. My very first Johnlock fic!


"Sh- Sherlock!", the busy street flowed at normal pace, with the occasional person turning around to look at the man who was interrupting the fast, inaudible sound that was the people of London.

The man manage to climb the stairs, shaking slightly and managed to throw himself on the old leather chair. He sighed to himself and rubbed his eyes. 'When will this stop? When will I stop imagining him everywhere that I go?' His thoughts were interrupted by the soft closing of the door. "John, I got some shopping in while you were gone, what did Lest-" Mrs Hudson's withdrawn babble was interrupted by a shaking whisper, "I saw him again. Today. He looked at me and then he was gone. It's the same. Always the same". Mrs Hudson saw the obvious exhaustion on John's face but wasn't surprised, every night for the last three years she listened to John's cries in the night, listened to the nightmares that John wouldn't admit that he had. Before she had time to reply, John curtly jumped up from the chair and marched mechanically into his bedroom. 'Oh God please make it stop', he slowly sat down on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands, 'I've seen so many soldiers die, so why is it only his face I can see when I close my eyes? Why only him that invades my dreams and turns them into something almost as bad as reality?' And with that, he got into his bed, closed his eyes and pretended his best friend was next to him, the same routine he's been following for three years.

John woke up with a start, he was now used to his racing heart beat and the beads of sweat that raced down his neck, he could never remember his nightmares fully, all he could remember was his guilt, his sorrow, glimpses of Sherlock's blood covering the empty dead eyes. He peered at the clock and dragged himself into the living room, put on his best friends' dressing grown and slumped in his chair. 'Mrs Hudson took care of the shopping, and Lestrade doesn't need me for this case, I don't need to go out'. He smiled a little and the rare glimpse of warmth showed in his face. 'I only ever see him while I'm out'. He grabbed the remote and switched to a dull, generic daytime television show which he loathed and stared at it blankly. 'Well there's nothing else'.

After about two hours of watching DNA results John heard the door shut gently but didn't look up from the television. "Mrs Hudson, I know what you're going to say but" He was interrupted by a deep whisper. "John". The silk dressing gown trailed behind John as he jumped from his seat and bounded across the room. They starred at each other for a few moments before the silence broke. "No, no, why here? Why is this different? I never see you, him, in the flat". John mumbled frantically to himself but didn't take his eyes from the taller man. "John, listen to me, please". The plea was cut short by frenzied shouts. "No! You're not real! I saw you die!". Sherlock edged closer to John and flicked a tear that had just escaped from the forlorn eye. John jumped at human contact and and grabbed Sherlock's hand, expending for it to vanish with the rest of the body but it was solid. "You're... You're alive". "Yes" "But -" John was cut short. "What I did, John. I hope that you know that… I would not have chosen it. I had no choice." "It's been three years, Sherlock, three years!". John's entire body was vibrating, half from anger and half from shock but Sherlock stood still, composed. "And it's over John, it's finally over". "Honestly, Sherlock, I don't know whether to kiss or punch you". He took a deep breath and inched a little closer to Sherlock. "I admit, that wasn't the response I was expecting." "And what was that, Sherlock? A welcome home party, complete with 'I'm glad you're not dead' banners?" "No, John, I owe you a thousand apologies. and even then it would still not be enough but I hope that it will offer some comfort to know that it was necessary." John sighed to himself and rubbed his head, the past three years didn't matter anymore, his best friend was back and that was all that he needed. "Just promise that you'll never leave me again." "I promise, after all, I'd be lost without my blogger". Sherlock smiled faintly at his own words and started to study John. The smaller man closed his eyes and paused for a second. "When I thought you were dead, my biggest regret was not telling you that I love you. So there it is, Sherlock. I love you." Sherlock was caught off guard but regained his composure almost immediately. "John, I..." "I've made an utter fool out of myself haven't I?" "John, if there is one thing that I have learned decisively over these past three years, it is this: without you, it's meaningless. I knew that you were alive, and that you were safe, and it was that thought that allowed me to continue." John gazed at him for a few moments, trying to work out if what he just heard was didn't know what to say. "I kept those handcuffs". 'Oh why did I saw that?' he thought to himself. Sherlock smirked, "Bondage John, I know you're angry with me but I didn't think you were the type." "No, I didn't mean that at all, Sherlock. I mean that I kept everything that brought back memories of you". "Good. That means I'll be able to start my experiments up again immediately." John just glared at Sherlock, secretly happy that he has his best friend back. Sherlock continued. "If you do intend of using those handcuff on me, you should be aware that I am capable of picking cuffs, John. If you intend to handcuff me to you to keep me at arm's length, I am afraid it will be an unfruitful endeavor." "So you'd not want to stay with me?" John felt his face crumble a little and swallowed hard. "Wrong. I am saying that I do not require being cuffed to do so". The ends of his lips lifted again and his tongue darted out, licking them. "I kept the riding crop, Sherlock, I'll be in your room in five." "Make it four".


End file.
